


Wouldn't smell as sweet

by dunklenacht310



Series: Scents [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha!liam, Alpha!zayn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beta!Niall, Bottom Harry, Fluff, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Harry, Rutting, Self-Lubrication, Top Zayn, Unsafe Sex, but they're cute - Freeform, harry too tbh, light superlight angst, omega!Louis, pretend boyfriends (but just in a couple scenes), the usual, zayn is a bit oblivious, zayn is an alpha but he doesn't like alphas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunklenacht310/pseuds/dunklenacht310
Summary: Zayn has always prided himself on being a very observant person.That’s why the incident at the dry cleaning upsets him maybe more than it should.Or no, that’s a lie.The incident at the dry cleaning only upsets him because of the Omega.-Zayn is an Alpha and he gets his clothes swapped with an Omega's at the dry cleaning. The scent of the Omega starts to haunt him, he becomes obsessed with how good it is. The Omega, of course, turns out to be Harry Styles. And that's a problem.





	Wouldn't smell as sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo someone requested an A/B/O dynamics fic, and I've never written anything like that, so I thought I'd give it a try. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Zayn has always prided himself on being a very observant person.

That’s why the incident at the dry cleaning upsets him maybe more than it should.

Or no, that’s a lie.

The incident at the dry cleaning only upsets him because of the Omega.

 

*

 

Zayn wakes up that morning with a pounding headache and his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. He curses Louis for feeding him tequila shots all night and heads to the kitchen, starting the kettle to make himself some much needed coffee.

Once it’s done and he has the steaming mug in his hands, he sits at the kitchen table, forcing his brain to start functioning.

His eyes land on the fridge, where the obnoxiously orange post-it hurts his eyes. He’s chosen the colour exactly for that purpose, so he can’t _not_ see the notes he leaves for himself, reminders of adult life needing his attention.

 _11:30 Pick up clothes from dry cleaning_ , he’s scribbled on it. Right.

He eyes the clock on the wall, 11:05 flashing at him, and he sighs, finishing his coffee and forgoing breakfast because his stomach still feels a bit fucked up from the amount of alcohol he drank the night before.

And Alphas were supposed to be the strong ones, he thinks with a scoff. _Strong ones my arse, I can’t even handle the same booze Louis handles, and he’s an Omega._

He showers quickly and gets dressed, taking his suppressants before brushing his teeth. The pills taste like puke, and he wonders for the umpteenth time in his life if it’s really so hard for doctors to come up with pills that taste good or even nothing at all. Just, like, not vomit.

Sometimes he wishes he could have been a Beta. Betas don’t have to deal with suppressants, or with embarrassing urges to growl at people for no other reason than picking up the last box of his favourite cereal from the shelf at the supermarket before him. Zayn tries not to think about the poor Omega woman’s face when he did just that, weeks ago. He’d barely managed to choke his own growled “ _Mine_ ” before letting go of the fucking cereal with a muttered “Sorry”. The woman had arched an eyebrow and taken the cereal for herself.

Suppressants manage to get rid of ruts and of the impeding need to fuck and claim everything that moves, but they apparently have no power over Zayn’s love for Weetabix. Go figure.

Zayn’s still feeling beyond cranky when he gets to the dry cleaning, waiting patiently in the queue until he reaches the counter. The girl behind it, a petite blonde Beta, stares at him and waits for him to do something.

Zayn hums, questioningly.

The girl sighs. “Ticket” she says, unfazed.

 _Ah, fuck_ , Zayn thinks. He’s fairly sure he forgot his return ticket somewhere, or even thrown it away for all he remembers, but he pulls out his wallet anyway to look like he’s not a total non-adult.

When he opens the wallet, he does find the ticket, together with one of his orange post-its scribbled in Safaa’s handwriting. _Put your ticket in here cos I know you’ll forget it, luv ya bro xx._

Zayn smiles as blesses his little sister for being so much better than him at adulting despite the fact he’s the one who’s just turned twenty-nine, and hands the ticket to the girl.

She barely looks at it as she goes through a door in the back, and then returns with a bag full of clothes.

Zayn sees the leather of his jacket poking out of the admittedly extremely well-folded clothes, and then the girl presents him with a bill of thirty pounds. _Bit much for just some shirts and a leather jacket_ , he thinks, and the girl must be a mind-reader or something because she shrugs and says “Ironing fee” in a bored tone.

Zayn doesn’t even question it, he just pays and hopes his landlord fixes the laundry machine in his house soon, before he has to waste all his pay-check in this place.

The smells hits him, but just a little, when he gets out of the dry cleaning. It’s a good smell, and although very faint, Zayn’s sure he’s never fucking smelled anything as good in his whole life.

It’s an Omega, he realizes cursing himself a little bit, because he hates his biology and his body when it reacts so strongly towards another human being. Zayn doesn’t want to be like the sadly great number of Alphas who look and act like animals, scanning places when they catch a good Omega scent, sniffing the air like dogs. So he doesn’t, and keeps walking home.

It’s only when he gets inside his apartment again that he realizes the smell hasn’t left his nostrils. Zayn frowns, because it was just a _faint_ smell to begin with, so why the fuck is it still inside his nose now that he’s home?

He can’t help taking a long breath through his nose, though, and when he does, he realizes.

The smell is not _lingering_ , it’s in his house with him, and it comes from the bag with his fucking clothes. Zayn crouches on the floor beside the bag, already with a mind to go back to the dry cleaning and complain that not only they didn’t clean his clothes properly, but they also let _someone else’s scent_ catch on them.

But when he finally opens the bag, he’s taken aback. Because those are not _his_ clothes, not even close.

The leather Zayn has seen upon retrieving the bag turns out to be leather trousers, and not his jacket. There’s a shitton of sheer shirts, so flashy and colourful that they put his orange post-its to fucking shame, in blue, purple, lilac and red, littered with prints of fruits, birds, pineapples and fucking _flamingos_. There’s a couple of equally flashy jackets as well, and they look expensive.

 _That’s_ the scent Zayn’s been smelling.

It’s faint, mixed with the smell of the dry cleaning’s detergent, but it’s unmistakably there, something sweet and bitter at the same time, a hint of citrus and a hint of pure Omega, sex and man, it’s definitely a male Omega.

Zayn doesn’t realize he’s brought the shirt with the pineapples to his face, sniffing it like the worst of Alphas, but he can’t quite stop himself. He smells it for a long time, feeling the scent crawl up his nostrils and to his fucking brain, and… well.

He feels himself get hard in a matter of seconds, just from the scent alone. Instead of blaming it on the amazing smell of the Omega, he decides to just blame it on the fact he hasn’t had a good lay in forever. He hasn’t felt like being on the pull lately, because he’s been having problems explaining to the Omegas afterwards that the fact they had sex doesn’t necessarily mean Zayn wants to see them again. Despite making his intentions quite clear from the start, the people he’s been with recently seem to find him weird for not feeling the need to bond at his age.

It’s not like Zayn’s old, he’s not even thirty yet, and it’s not like he _doesn’t_ want to bond. It’s just… it’s _for life_. And Zayn doesn’t want to risk it with someone he doesn’t know, someone he’s pulled on the dance floor in a club, some meaningless good shag whose name he doesn’t remember in the morning.

Bonding is more than that, bonding is his mother and father, it’s _love_ and it’s _forever_. And Zayn doesn’t even know what that means, for now.

That doesn’t make the scent on the clothes less appealing. Zayn growls in the shirt, feeling his Alpha biology take over in the annoying way he always tries to fight, the small voice inside his head and chest and dick that whispers _mine mine mine claim claim claim_.

He figures it’s safe if the clothes don’t have an actual _person_ inside them. So he lets go a little bit, and crawls to the couch with the shirt, where he unbuttons his jeans and sighs at the relieved pressure on his dick. He wraps a hand around himself, pushing the shirt more against his face.

 _Mine. Omega. Mine_ , his mind keeps screaming, and Zayn doesn’t fight it, because he’s alone.

The fact he’s alone stops being a relief and starts being frustrating when he’s about to come, so early it would be embarrassing if he gave a fuck, and the circle of his fist doesn’t quite feel enough around his knot.

He comes anyway, grunting his pleasure and frustration into the shirt as he spills in his hand, some drops landing on the hem of the Omega’s shirt.

Zayn resolutely doesn’t think his own scent mixed with the Omega’s smells even more amazing.

When he recovers his breath, staring at the ceiling with his head reclined on the backrest of his couch, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and dials the dry cleaning’s number.

“ _Quick and Clean_ , how can I help you?” a female voice answers the call, probably the same bored Beta he non-interacted with less than an hour earlier.

“Um, hi. I came to retrieve my clothes an hour ago. But you gave me the wrong clothes”

The girl sighs. “What was your ticket number?”

Zayn struggles to retrieve his wallet as well, and stares at the half ticket the girl gave him back with the bag of clothes. “214” he says.

“Wait” the girl replies.

Zayn waits, and when she comes back, she’s stuttering a bit. “I, um, sir, I apologize, but the 214 slot is empty as well, which means your clothes have been swapped with someone else’s”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out since the clothes I have here are not mine” Zayn says impatiently “Can’t you see who’s gotten mine?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. We only keep track of ticket numbers, not names”

Zayn swears, but manages to only mouth it and not say it out loud. “I see. Thanks anyway. And be more careful next time”

The girl sighs. “We will. I apologize again. If you want to, we can refund…”

“Never mind” Zayn says curtly “Have a good day”

He ends the call, and sighs. The clothes he himself lost weren’t worth much, not even the leather jacket. He’ll miss it anyway, though.

His eyes – and his nose – land on the Omega’s shirt again, which Zayn is still clutching between his fingers.

He tosses it in the general direction of the stranger’s clothes. “Ah, fuck you” he says to no one in particular.

 

*

 

“You gotta get laid eventually, Zed”

Louis is sitting in Zayn’s kitchen, perched on the counter while Zayn is making them both dinner. Zayn looks questioningly at him.

“You’ve been wanking so much the past week that I’m starting to get worried your dick’s gonna fall off soon” Louis explains, arching an eyebrow.

Zayn doesn’t have time to ask how Louis would even know, because Louis chuckles and taps at his own nose with his pointer finger. “Omega” Louis says “And Alpha jizz”

Zayn feels his cheeks flare and pointedly avoids Louis’s amused smirk, concentrating on the meat sizzling in the pan. Louis’s right, as per usual. Zayn’s been jacking off non-stop to the smell of the Omega, rolling himself among his clothes so much that the actual smell has almost completely vanished, replaced only by Zayn’s own smell. He’s been feeling like he’s constantly on the edge of his rut, even considered calling his doctor to tell him that the suppressants stopped working for some reason, before realizing that his actual rut is never coming, and it’s just the stranger’s smell making him feel so hot and bothered all the fucking time.

“Sorry” he mutters “Tried to clean up the best I could”

He feels Louis’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, and he looks up at him. “What’s wrong with you, Zed?” Louis asks, concern in his blue eyes.

“What’s wrong with _you_?” Zayn retorts with a chuckle, redirecting the question.

It’s not even that random of a question. Louis has been weird for the past couple weeks, refusing Zayn’s offers to go out and get shit faced in the last days, even, and not answering texts at speed-record like he usually does.

Louis blushes a little bit, and Zayn instantly knows what’s coming.

“I met an Alpha” Louis says, uncharacteristically bashful “He’s sweet”

Zayn has to physically restrain himself from snorting, because Alphas can be a lot of things, but they’re certainly not _sweet_ , and he knows first-hand, seeing that he is one.

But Zayn also knows stereotypes are offensive and not to be trusted, because just as he is not a ‘typical’ possessive animal, Louis is not a needy, clueless slut, as Omegas are often portrayed. Zayn has a tough time even imagining Louis Tomlinson succumbing to Alpha pheromones without a really good reason.

“Tell me about him?” Zayn gently asks, plating their dinner and bringing it to the table.

Louis chuckles and hops off the counter. “His name’s Liam” he says, attacking the dinner “Sports freak. Goes jogging at seven in the morning every fucking day. He smells like heaven on a plate”

Zayn snorts at that, because waxing poetry about an Alpha’s smell is also so uncharacteristically Louis, and a pang of something that might be longing and jealousy hits him in the stomach.

Maybe Louis has finally found his mate.

And Zayn has never been further away from finding his, because he doesn’t even know how to recognize potential mates, never bothered to think about it. And all he has for now are a stranger’s clothes to wank to.

“I’d like you to meet him” Louis says at last “I know you’re, like… I know you don’t like Alphas that much. I know you don’t even like _being_ an Alpha. But I feel like Liam’s become important in my life. And you are too. So I want you to meet him”

Zayn smiles at the clear embarrassment in Louis’s tone. Louis must know how out of character he’s behaving too, but Zayn doesn’t have the heart to bust his bubble with worried questions about the Alpha’s real intentions, about bonding, about anything.

So Zayn just smiles again. “I’d love to” he tells Louis “No need to be embarrassed, yeah? I just hope this Alpha is worthy enough of your perfect Omega arse”

Louis blushes, grins, and flips Zayn off at the same time.

“Now care to tell me what’s getting your knot in a twist?” Louis asks bluntly after the Liam conversation is over.

Zayn sighs. He knows Louis will take the piss forever, but he tells him about the clothes and the Omega scent anyway. He even manages to confess how much he himself feels like he’s wanked so much his dick’s gonna fall off.

Unexpectedly, Louis doesn’t laugh or take the piss on Zayn. He just sighs. “Some smells really fuck you up, eh?” he murmurs.

Zayn nods. “I’ve always been on suppressants so I almost don’t remember what a rut feels like, but if it feels more than what I’m feeling these days, then I’m glad I’ll never go through one”

Louis arches an eyebrow. “Never say never, Zayn. You’ll find your mate some day and you’ll have to go into rut to have children, you know that”

Zayn doesn’t say that the thought of finding a mate and having children with them feels almost like a fantasy for now.

 

*

 

“Is he often this late when he’s got to meet you?” Zayn asks Louis in a suspicious tone, sitting in a booth at the club with his friend.

If this Liam guy really wants Louis, then he should start by being on time, shouldn’t he?

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t go into protective Alpha mode just yet, it’s barely been ten minutes”

“I’m not ‘going into protective’ anything” Zayn murmurs.

Louis laughs. “Sure you are. You always do, Zed. It’s your gender” he says nonchalantly “I guess some Alphas just feel protective of Omegas even if they’re not bonded to them”

“I am _protective_ of you ‘cause you’re my _friend_ , not ‘cause you’re an _Omega_ ” Zayn protests, taking a sip from his beer.

Louis nods. “I know, I know” he concedes “But you can’t deny that it’s also your nature, Zayn. Alpha doesn’t only mean claiming and fucking”

“Don’t I know it” Zayn mutters in his beer.

Louis pats him on the shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I wish more Alphas were like you” he says with a grin “But I don’t mind the claiming and the fucking every once in a while. Here they are!”

Louis is waving energetically at someone, and Zayn follows his eyes, seeing a ripped guy who is most certainly Liam, judging by the vivid descriptions he’s gotten from Louis in the past twenty-four hours. Liam’s coming towards them with two more lads on tow.

Once they reach them at their booth, Louis quickly kisses Liam on the mouth and then turns to look at Zayn. There’s _something_ in his eyes, a spark that Zayn has never seen, and it makes him smile.

“Zayn, this is Liam” Louis says “Liam, this is my best friend, Zayn”

Zayn smiles at Liam, shaking his hand, and admittedly a bit surprised that Liam doesn’t look territorial or edgy in the slightest. He’s seen Alphas lose it for much less than the friendly pat on the shoulder Louis has given Zayn upon introducing him to Liam.

“Louis’s told me lots about you, mate” Liam smiles, an eye-crinkling smile that lightens his whole face, and Zayn kind of understands what Louis sees in the guy. He’s also kinda glad his arsehole-radar is remaining silent for now.

“Likewise” Zayn replies.

“Sorry we’re late, by the way” Liam says “Harry took forever to get ready”

“Heeeey”

The slow drawl of the voice goes right to Zayn’s dick, and he silently blames how jittery he’s been for the past week, because he hasn’t even _seen_ the guy who’s spoken.

When Liam moves to introduce his two friends, though, Zayn sees him alright.

The first of the two is a blonde lad who introduces himself as Niall, with an Irish accent. _Beta_ , Zayn thinks when they shake hands.

And then he sees the other guy.

He’s tall, slightly taller than Zayn, and with broader shoulders than his. _Alpha_ , he thinks, but when they lock eyes, Zayn has barely time to notice how beautiful and green his eyes are before they’re shaking hands, and the smell hits him like a truck.

 _Omega._ My _Omega._

The smell is there, so much stronger now that he’s actually touching the person it belongs to. Citrus, sex, Omega. _Mine mine mine_ , his mind screams, and Zayn wants to kick himself, because _really? Over someone I don’t even know the name of?_

He quickly retreats his hand from the guy’s, and he sees his face fall a little, curtained by long brown curls. “I’m Harry” he says, not quite managing to hide how he’s probably been offended by Zayn clearly not wanting to touch him.

“Sorry” Zayn manages to utter “Nice to meet you. I’m Zayn”

“Is this okay?” Liam asks both Zayn and Louis, with a frown “I’m… like, I didn’t think to… warn you or something. I figured Zayn’s okay around Louis so another Omega wouldn’t be a problem”

“I’m not a _problem_ , cheers, Liam” Harry replies coldly while Niall winces.

Liam goes pale. “Haz, you know I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay” Harry says with a small smile “I’m gonna get something to drink, see you in a while”

He turns to leave, and _no no no_ , Zayn doesn’t want him to.

He grabs his hand before Harry can retreat, and Harry’s whole body jolts and freezes. Zayn only speaks when Harry finally faces him again. “I didn’t mean to be rude” he tells Harry “It’s not you, of course. Come sit with the rest of us?”

Harry doesn’t answer for a long moment, in which Zayn has time to furtherly confirm that Harry’s indeed the owner of the clothes who currently lay rumpled and marked and claimed in his own bedroom, because he’s wearing a halfway-buttoned sheer shirt, green with bananas printed all over.

Harry’s hand is still in his, but he replies before Zayn has time to look at his absurdly tight skinny jeans. “Okay” he says, and then, to Liam “Sorry I snapped, Leeyum”

Liam just chuckles, probably relieved he hasn’t really offended his friend. Zayn feels him. It’s always scary for Alphas to interact with Omegas, no matter how long you’ve known them. Another bad side of the stereotypes about needy Omegas and territorial Alphas.

The initial tension is already completely gone by the time they all squeeze inside Zayn and Louis’s booth, and they order a round of pints while Louis suggests they play twenty questions to get to know each other better.

Zayn doesn’t even hear the first questions Niall asks Louis, because he’s too busy trying to eye Harry without being caught.

He’s beautiful, is the thing. He’s got the curls and the dimples in his cheeks, but there’s also something in the way his eyes always seem to laugh even if the rest of his face isn’t, and something in the way his long fingers move when he’s speaking.

And something in the way he smells as well, yeah. His smell has become familiar to Zayn in the past week, and he feels incredibly guilty at the thought Harry has no idea he’s sitting right in front of the person who has his clothes. Zayn decides he’s not ever gonna tell him, because he can’t risk Harry suggesting Zayn hands over the clothes at the end of the night.

He needs to wash them at least three times before handing them back to him. His own smell on the clothes is still far too evident for Harry not to notice just _how_ Zayn has been using his shirts for days.

He’ll wash them and then he’ll give them back to Harry via Louis and Liam, he decides.

Harry doesn’t particularly look like an Omega, Zayn thinks as he just looks at him interact with the rest of them. He knows he’s going on the stereotypes he hates so much, but Omegas are usually built more like Louis. Not particularly big. Harry’s not really big per se, but he’s tall and broad, and Zayn doesn’t really blame himself for thinking he was an Alpha before catching his damn scent.

Zayn doesn’t speak for a while, content to just study Louis’s guy a bit more, but Louis eyes Zayn and grins like he’s got Zayn already all figured out, which is the complete and utter truth.

“Harry” Louis says, still looking at Zayn “Your turn”

Harry chuckles. “Ask away”

“What’s the thing you hate most about Alphas?”

Harry blushes a little, probably self-conscious of the fact that they have two Alphas at their table, one of which he doesn’t really know. Zayn smiles at him, nodding a little to tell him he can say whatever he wants.

“Um” Harry murmurs, fidgeting with his glass “When they knot you without permission, I guess”

Zayn feels his whole stomach do a one-eighty. “That happen often to you?” he asks in what sounds like a squeal, abashed and disgusted at his own kind.

Harry shrugs. “Yeah” he admits “’S not that I don’t like it. My body’s made to take it and like it, after all. It’s just… it’s something too intimate to do with strangers? And I feel like when I ask ‘em not to, and they do anyway, it’s kind of like a violence”

Zayn nods, agreeing on everything Harry just said. Zayn has never knotted anyone unless they were important to him, no matter how much his body always tells him to finish every sexual intercourse with a knot. Harry’s right, it’s far too intimate to just do it with whomever.

“Sorry on behalf of our gender, I guess” he tells Harry, not resisting the urge of putting his hand over Harry’s.

Harry looks at their hands for a moment. “Thanks” he chuckles, embarrassed.

“Wonderful” Louis says in a snicker “I want more booze”

Liam rolls his eyes. “You always want more booze”

Zayn laughs. “True” he says.

Louis flips them both off and heads towards the bar with their empty glasses.

Only then Zayn realizes he’s still with his hand on top of Harry’s, and he tries to remove it, but Harry keeps it in place with his thumb.

They exchange a look, and Zayn tries very hard not to think about how his hand will smell like Harry when he will let it go.

He can see the arousal already creeping in Harry’s scent, in his slightly blown pupils, so he kind of expects it, when Harry asks him “Do you wanna dance?”

What surprises him is that he nods. Zayn _doesn’t_ dance. But he wants to dance with Harry, wants to have an excuse to touch him without coming across as just another sex-crazed Alpha.

Louis looks at him with his mouth agape as Zayn follows Harry to the dance floor, where the lights are almost non-existent except for the flashes of the strobe lights on the ceiling. There’s already a crowd there, dancing to the DJ set, and it means they have limited space, which brings Harry to squeeze in right against Zayn’s body, his hands settling on Zayn’s hips.

“I’m sorry about earlier” he lamely says in Harry’s ear, so that Harry can’t look at his face and see how aroused he already is. Even if his scent is probably already giving that away.

Harry shivers while they move together, not grinding but quite close to it. “It’s fine. You seem the good kind of Alpha”

Zayn chuckles. “I try” he just says.

Harry’s scent is coming to him in waves, stronger every time Harry shakes his hair, rivets of sweat running down his temples and his neck.

Zayn wants to bite, taste, fuck.

He tries to get his hips a bit away from Harry’s, because he’s already more than half-hard in his jeans, but Harry doesn’t let him go far, grabbing him by the hips again and pressing their crotches together. He’s hard as well.

Zayn looks at him, sees and smells his arousal, and he doesn’t want to think about what it means, that Harry has him already wrapped around his little finger without even knowing, so Zayn just keeps grinding against him, breathing in every time Harry sighs, so that he can imagine tasting his lips.

He doesn’t know how long they keep breathing each other’s sighs and palming each other’s hips. He only knows part of him just wants to take Harry home and fuck him into the mattress so that maybe afterwards he will be done with his scent, but another part wants to do right by him and not push himself on Harry just taking advantage of the obvious arousal he can sense coursing through Harry’s body.

Harry, on his part, doesn’t try to make a move on Zayn either. They keep dancing and grinding and they keep smelling each other’s arousal, but Zayn can’t do more about it, not if Harry doesn’t move first and lets him know he’s allowed. He won’t force himself on Harry like that.

“Wanna get another drink?” Harry asks after a moment, his lips brushing Zayn’s earlobe every time he pronounces a syllable.

Zayn nods. He doesn’t want to drink anymore, but maybe if they stop dancing he’ll regain control of himself enough to stop picturing having Harry splayed on his bed with his legs parted and slick between his thighs as Zayn knows it would happen.

They make their way through the throng of people, hands entwined. Once they’ve reached the booth where Louis, Liam and Niall are still talking, Harry lets go of Zayn’s hand. “What’ll you have?” he asks.

Zayn shrugs. “Whatever you’re having”

Harry grins, his dimples carving a fucking hole in Zayn’s stomach, and nods, retreating towards the bar.

Zayn doesn’t have time to even sit before he notices two tall men approach Harry at the bar.

He knows that gaze, he knows those vibes. He knows how Alphas sometimes think a lonely Omega means the Omega is begging to be taken and pleased. Some Alphas don’t even understand that Omegas are just like any other person, and like any other person, they have the right to be alone and _want_ to be left alone.

Zayn doesn’t realize he’s growling until Louis grabs his arm and shakes it, hard. “Zayn” he hisses.

Zayn stops the sound rumbling in his throat, but he doesn’t stop looking at Harry.

The two Alphas are at each side of Harry, smiling cunningly down at him. They’re taller than him, which is a feat on itself, but they’re also broader than him. Harry doesn’t seem fazed and shakes his head, saying something.

The Alphas get closer to him.

Harry shakes his head again, trying to remove himself from in between them, but one of them places a hand on his chest, forcing him to stay where he is.

Harry’s eyes shoot open, fear clearly legible on his face, and Zayn is moving.

He doesn’t register that he’s growling again until he comes standing in front of the three of them, looking at the two Alphas, and then he starts growling on purpose.

“Go away” he tells the two Alphas.

They look at him. “He yours?” one of them asks.

Harry’s staring at Zayn with something unreadable in his expression, and Zayn knows he shouldn’t, but sometimes everything Alphas understand is the concept of _mine_ and _claimed_ , so he nods. “ _Mine_ ” he growls.

The Alphas shrug and even mutter a sorry, and finally get lost.

Zayn immediately stops growling. “Harry, are you…”

“ _Yours_?” Harry scoffs with a bitter chuckle “You don’t fucking know me”

Zayn feels something unpleasant stir in his guts. “Harry, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have, I just did it so that they…”

“So that they would leave me alone only because I’m _someone else’s_ ” Harry completes dryly “Right. Well, Zayn, it might be shocking info for Alphas, but not every fucking Omega likes to be defended through a fake claiming, so now that you’re done pissing on your territory, I think I’ll go home. Tell my friends, please”

Without giving Zayn time to even open his mouth to reply, Harry turns and stomps towards the exit, his scent even stronger than when they were dancing.

 _Good_ , Zayn decides at last. He doesn’t need any Omega clogging his nose with their scent, and he sure as hell doesn’t need to be treated like any Alpha jock after he just tried to be nice and help. If Harry is so bitter towards Alphas and their _ways_ , then he shouldn’t have danced with Zayn in the first place, and he sure as hell shouldn’t go around smelling like heaven in sheer shirts and skinny jeans.

Zayn gets spectacularly shitfaced that night, and for once, it’s not Louis’s fault, but his own.

 

*

 

An earthquake makes Zayn’s bed rattle in the morning, waking him up.

He briefly thinks he’s too hungover to deal with earthquakes before he regains his wits enough to realize no calamity is occurring, and it’s just Louis shaking him awake.

“How the fuck did you come in” Zayn mutters, pressing his face in the pillow to try and stop the pulsing in his temples.

“You gave me your keys a year ago, you nitwit” Louis chuckles.

Right. Zayn forces himself to peer at Louis from the pillow. “What?” he demands.

“I am honestly impressed that you still managed to wank to Harry’s shirts last night, despite how shitfaced you were” Louis says with a chuckle, raising Harry’s shirt with the flamingos with his thumb and index from where it lays dirty and crumpled among Zayn’s bedsheets.

Zayn grabs it and pulls it away from Louis’s hand with a groan. _Mine_ , his mind supplies unhelpfully, and he groans again.

He manages to sit up after a moment, when he realizes what Louis has just said. “How do you know it’s Harry’s?”

Louis shrugs. “I smelled his scent in your house and then last night at the club. It’s not rocket science”

The smell in question has almost completely vanished by now, and Zayn doesn’t want to think about what the fuck he’ll do when it’ll be gone for good, so he looks at Louis and tries to change the subject. “Liam’s nice” he says.

Louis chuckled. “You’re shit at changing the subject” he replies “Now come down, I’ll make you coffee. And then we can talk about how the fuck you managed to have the only Omega you actually like accuse you, _Zayn Malik,_ of being an Alpha jock”

Zayn doesn’t answer, but the promise of coffee lures him out of his bed and his room. Louis makes coffee in the kitchen while Zayn sits on the counter, and he really knows Zayn better than himself, because he speaks again only when Zayn has had his first three sips and his mind feels less clogged.

“You might want to know that Harry wasn’t properly himself last night” Louis says slowly “He was snappy ‘cause he was about to go into heat”

Zayn gapes at Louis, and tries with all his might not to picture how fucking _edible_ Harry would look when in heat. With his body flushed, his eyes glassy and half-lidded, his mouth kiss-swollen and his hole so slick Zayn wouldn’t even have to prep him more than two minutes before fucking him senseless.

“Jesus Christ” Louis scoffs “I believe you when you say you feel like you’re about to go into rut. You _reek_ of arousal, Zayn”

Zayn busies his mouth with his coffee before muttering an apology.

“It’s fine. I understand” Louis concedes “That’s not what I wanted you to do when I told you, though”

Zayn arches an eyebrow, and Louis rolls his eyes. “I wanted you to understand that Harry fancied you before realizing he was about to go into heat and fleeing the scene”

“If he was going into heat and fancied me, there was _no way_ he would have fled the scene” Zayn replies curtly.

“That’s kinda sexist, you know that?” Louis deadpans “Going into heat doesn’t mean we just want an Alpha we just met to knot us every hour for a week, no matter how much we think they’re fit”

Zayn curses himself for what he just said, because Louis is right. “Fuck, sorry” Zayn mutters “Jesus, dealing with you Omegas is kinda hard, though”

Louis laughs. “I know, I guess that’s the price you Alphas gotta pay for arses that feel like nothing else” he retorts “Anyway. Harry was going into heat and so he snapped because he was embarrassed you’d notice, embarrassed that those two Alpha jocks noticed just the same. So he went away. Now, I suggest that you wait for his heat to be over, and then apologize”

“Apologize?” Zayn shrieks “I didn’t do anything!”

“You fake-claimed him” Louis shrugs “That doesn’t feel that great, to be honest. And he’s an actual ball of sunshine from what Liam tells me, so he’ll probably want to apologize as well. You can both do that, and then you can fuck each other and we’ll all live happily ever after”

“Why isn’t he on suppressants?” Zayn asks, avoiding the ‘fuck each other’ bit.

Louis sighs. “He told Liam that he’s read suppressants impair Omegas’ ability to feel potential mates. So he stopped taking ‘em. He says he feels like there’s something wrong with him ‘cause he isn’t bonded yet, and never felt the need to”

Harry’s stupid, Zayn decides. Because he himself hasn’t felt the need to bond yet, and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Well, maybe just a little. The point is that suppressants don’t have anything to do with it, but their absence does allow heats to come, and Zayn knows just how painful it can be for an Omega to go through them alone, without an Alpha to take care of them.

Unless he does have an Alpha to do that.

Louis rolls his eyes, probably reading Zayn’s mind. “Liam said he’s locked himself in his room and won’t come out until it’s over” he supplies.

Zayn feels uneasiness crawl up his spine. “He needs to eat and stay hydrated. Does he have food and water? Liam’s got to make sure he’s not…”

Louis laughs. “You literally said you don’t go into any protective Alpha mode yesterday, and yet here you are, worrying that a bloke you barely know is not well-fed and hydrated”

Zayn doesn’t reply, but Louis takes pity on him and sighs.

“Niall’s making sure Harry’s fine” he says “Liam’s staying at mine until it’s over. He’s got a good self-control and all, but he’s never had to be roommates with an Omega in heat”

Zayn nods. Yeah, that’s good. He doesn’t want any Alpha next to Harry if he’s in heat. Well, maybe only _one_ Alpha, but that’s not an option, so no one.

“Will you tell him about the clothes?” Louis asks with a smirk after a while.

Zayn nods, ignoring his shit-eating grin. “Yeah. I’ll give ‘em back to him when… when I see him again. If I do”

“Cleanse ‘em with fire first, though” Louis chuckles “The smell of your jizz is so strong he might just go into heat all over again as soon as he wears his flamingo shirt”

 

*

 

So that’s what Zayn does.

Not with fire, of course, but with a lot more detergent than necessary. His landlord has finally fixed the laundry machine, and Zayn uses it to wash Harry’s clothes three times, and then a fourth time just to be sure.

He wonders if Harry has his clothes. The girl at the dry cleaning said there has been a swapping, so it’s fair to assume Zayn got Harry’s clothes and Harry got Zayn’s. Zayn tries not to fantasize too much on the fact that maybe his smell has affected Harry just the same, that maybe Harry’s been feeling ashamed and out of sorts as well while he’s wanked to Zayn’s clothes. Maybe that’s why Harry hasn’t looked like he could resist Zayn’s pull from the start, just as much as Zayn hasn’t ever had a chance to resist Harry’s pull.

He absurdly hopes that Harry will return Zayn’s clothes without washing them again.

 

*

 

Five days later, when Louis texts him that Harry’s heat is over (with a wink emoji and a water-drops emoji too), Zayn decides to be a man about the whole deal.

It’s embarrassing, but there’s no way to return the clothes to Harry without making it clear that they were at Zayn’s, and he doesn’t feel like asking Liam to lie for him just to hide, so he decides that he won’t. He asks Louis if he’s _completely sure_ that Harry’s out of his heat, and he can feel Louis’s eyeroll through his answer.

_Yes, Zayn, I do know how to be completely sure when a fellow Omega’s heat is over. He’s right here next to me and he’s peachy. A bit fucked-out, but peachy._

Zayn takes a deep breath, taking a moment to fold Harry’s clothes and put them in their bag and to avoid thinking about how fucked-out Harry would look. _Give me Liam’s address? I’m gonna drop by and return the clothes._

Louis just sends him a link to his current position, and Zayn nods to himself, taking another deep breath and leaving his apartment.

When he reaches the destination showed to him by Maps, he looks at the totally anonymous five-storey concrete building, and crosses the street to look at the buzzer. He’s quick to find the button that reads _Niall Horan – Liam Payne – Harry Styles_ , and presses on it.

It’s Niall who answers and tells him through the inter-com that they’re on the third floor, which gives Zayn another couple of minutes before Harry’s smell will hit him like it always does. Zayn climbs the stairs to the third floor, ringing the doorbell of the apartment and feeling out of breath. He’s not that sure that it’s just the cigarettes.

Liam answers the door, and smiles at Zayn when he realizes it’s him. “Oh! Hi! Come in” he says.

Zayn greets him and takes a step inside. Harry’s smell is everywhere, he thinks as he takes more time than necessary to untie his boots. It’s not just because it’s his place, though. It’s a smell Zayn recognizes, the smell of an Omega not quite in heat, but just out of it. It’s sweeter, stronger, _everywhere_.

“Yeah” Liam whispers to him “We’ve been keeping the windows open to change the air as quick as possible. Don’t tell him I said this to you. It’s not his fault after all”

Zayn chuckles at Liam’s embarrassed whispers, and nods. “You’re safe with me”

Liam laughs and guides him through a corridor and into a living room, where Louis is grinning at him from a couch while Harry and Niall are sitting on the carpet and sharing a giant bowl of pop-corn.

Harry gets a little red and a little pale at the same time when he catches sight of Zayn, and Zayn takes a deep breath once more, willing this whole deal to be over quickly. “Hi” he says.

Harry scrambles to his feet and walks over to him, while Louis keeps grinning at Zayn from behind his back. Zayn ignores him in favour of noticing how soft Harry looks, in just a white t-shirt and grey sweats, barefoot and with his curls scooped up in a bun. He’s got dark circles around his eyes, and Zayn just wants to grab him and pull him to bed and tuck him in and watch him sleep.

As it is, Zayn doesn’t do any of that, because Harry smiles sheepishly. “Hey. I’m, um, glad you came. I want to say sorry for how I reacted that night at the club. I was…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, just wiggles his fingers in the air in a gesture that means nothing at all and _I was going into heat_.

Zayn nods. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. Actually, I’m sorry too. Shouldn’t have gone all Alpha jock on you”

“Alpha jock?” Harry frowns.

Zayn chuckles nervously, conscious about the stares of the other three people in the room. “’S what Louis calls us when we’re all possessive and pissing on our territory”

Harry shakes his head. “You weren’t. I’m sorry I said that. You were just trying to help me and I appreciate that. I was just feeling a bit… overwhelmed. Haven’t gone into heat for years, I just stopped taking my suppressants” he says blushing and avoiding Zayn’s eyes.

 _It’s fucking dangerous for you to go into heat around people when you already look like sex on legs to begin with_ , Zayn wants to say, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he raises the bag of clothes a little bit and decides to get done with it. “Okay, so. This might be a bit weird, but I… I’ve had your clothes for a week. The dry cleaning made a mistake. I didn’t know to whom they belonged until this morning”

The last sentence is kind of a lie, but Zayn can’t help it.

Harry gapes. “My shirts” he says dramatically.

Zayn chuckles. “Yeah. Great taste. And sorry I kept you apart so long”

Harry grabs the bag and holds it to his chest with dangerously wet eyes, and Zayn wants to fucking lick him whole, or bite his cheeks where they’ve gone absurdly pink, but he manages to control himself.

Harry looks at him for a moment. “Wait a second” he then says, and gets out of the room.

Once he’s gone, Zayn dares look at the rest of the lads. Niall is openly laughing at him. “Oh, man, being Alpha and Omega must be fun” he comments.

Louis swats at his head, and Zayn mumbles “Not in the slightest” between his teeth.

Harry returns less than a minute later, holding a bag of his own, and Zayn knows what’s in there, but he lets Harry speak anyway, because Zayn embarrassed himself, so Harry might as well.

“I, um, also had your clothes and didn’t know they were yours” Harry says, handing him the bag.

Zayn can’t help himself, and when he peers inside of it, he discreetly sniffs. There’s no Harry scent on his clothes, but they smell of too much detergent. Maybe Harry also washed them again.

“My leather jacket” Zayn says with a grin.

Harry chuckles. “Sorry I kept you apart”

They don’t speak anymore after that, but Zayn doesn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes just don’t seem capable to leave his.

“We were about to watch some movies” Harry says at last “Do you wanna stay?”

Zayn nods, although he really doesn’t know how he will manage to behave if he’s gonna be squeezed against Harry on a couch with the lights off.

 _Behave, Zayn. You’re not an animal_ , he tells himself.

Harry smiles.

Zayn can definitely do this.

 

*

 

Zayn definitely _can’t_ do this.

 _The Fellowship of the Ring_ is almost over in the telly, and Liam, Louis and Niall are sitting on the carpet in front of the coffee table, their backs leaned into the couch. Louis has his head propped on Liam’s shoulder, and Liam is drawing mindless circles on the nape of his neck with his pointer finger. It would be a cute and romantic scene to look at, if Zayn wasn’t so damn _distracted_ by his own situation.

He and Harry are sharing the couch, their backs propped against each armrest, and their legs elongated in between them. Zayn can feel the warmth of Harry’s leg against his own, and although he can’t find it in him to stop staring at the lights reverberating on Harry’s face, Harry himself seems to be very concentrated on the movie, instead.

“ _I made a promise, Mr Frodo. A promise_ ” Sam says in the telly, and Harry murmurs the words along with him “ _‘Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee.’ And I don’t mean to_ ”

The sunlight from the scene reflects in Harry’s eyes, making them sparkle in a thousand shades of green and gold. The lake scene is one of Zayn’s favourites, but not even Sam’s incredible loyalty to Frodo can make him take his eyes off of Harry that night, apparently.

Harry must feel it, though, because he chooses that exact moment to turn his head towards Zayn. He smirks. “Pay attention” he just mouths at Zayn, a glint of mirth in his absurdly perfect eyes.

Zayn chuckles and fake-smoulders at Harry. “ _Frodo’s fate is no longer in our hands_ ”, he mouths at him, in perfect sync with Aragorn on the screen.

Harry barks a laugh, pressing his hands on his mouth with a series of giggles, and Liam, Louis and Niall shush him without turning to even look at him.

Harry kicks Zayn in the hip, right where his feet reach him in their current position, and Zayn swiftly grabs his ankle to stop him. Harry’s skin is scorching hot under his palm, and Zayn loves it, and doesn’t think he’ll be able to ever let it go. Harry doesn’t seem to mind, and his cheeks look a bit pinker, but maybe it’s only the lighting of the movie.

“You stand up and put in _The Two Towers_ ” Niall tells Harry when the first movie is over “Since you ruined the last five minutes with your re-enacting of the speeches and laughter”

Harry kicks him in the shoulder but stands up to change the Blu-Ray to the second volume, his ankle slipping from under Zayn’s hand and leaving him like he’s missing a fucking limb.

Zayn tries his best not to ogle Harry as he bends over the Blu-Ray player under their telly. He fails miserably, of course, because Harry shouldn’t honestly be allowed to wear sweats that thin. Louis abruptly turns to look at Zayn with a shit-eating grin. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks.

Zayn arches an eyebrow. “It’s _Lord of the Rings_. Of course I’m enjoying myself”

Louis arches his eyebrow right back at him, but doesn’t call him out on misinterpreting his question on purpose. He just sighs and leans more into Liam, his head slipping until it’s on Liam’s lap. Liam looks down at him with an expression that clearly says he can’t believe his fucking luck, as he drives his fingers through Louis’s hair with a gentleness that is almost painful to watch.

Zayn smiles. If anyone deserves a good Alpha who treats them like they’re fucking miracles, it’s Louis. And Liam seems to be more than perfectly filling the requirement.

 _The Two Towers_ starts, and Harry quickly runs back to the couch, plopping on it so hard he bounces a couple of times and almost crushes Zayn’s legs. He bends his knees to pull them from under Harry’s body before he hits them, but Harry doesn’t go back to his armrest. He stays sitting in the middle of the couch, his eyes focusing on the first scene, the swiping of the camera over the black and white mountains making his face light up in shades of blue, and then Gandalf fighting Balrog casting red and orange flashes over his cheekbones.

Zayn forces himself to stop staring and manages to concentrate on the movie for at least twenty minutes, before a shifting coming from his side makes him look at Harry again.

His eyes are drooping, and his head is swinging forward before he startles awake, only to repeat the motion every few seconds.

They’re not even a half hour into the movie when Harry finally gives up and slides sideways, asleep, his head lightly thumping on Zayn’s lap, where he stays motionless.

The position mustn’t be comfortable for him, his back bent in a weird angle, and it certainly isn’t comfortable for Zayn, with Harry’s face so fucking close to his crotch. He carefully slides a bit down the armrest, pulling Harry delicately up until he’s slotted between his legs and his cheek is resting on Zayn’s stomach.

“And Haz’s gone” Niall chuckles, without even turning.

“Shush” Zayn whispers “Let him sleep. I bet he’s fucking tired”

Louis hums with a grin Zayn can see looking down at him, still nestled with his head in Liam’s lap. Zayn ignores him, and only by the time Treebeard appears does he realize he’s untied Harry’s bun and started playing with his curls. Harry is completely unfazed. He snuffles and just keeps sleeping on Zayn’s stomach, so Zayn keeps playing with his hair.

And if he’s a bit scared of the easiness with which he falls into that lazy evening with Harry, it’s no one’s business but his own.

 

*

 

That’s how the rest of the month goes. Louis and Liam seem to be glued by the hip, and although it’s soon, Zayn isn’t surprised when one night Louis drops by his place with a bonding mark clearly visible on his neck. Zayn wouldn’t jump into something so _permanent_ that early, but he’s been hanging out with those two for a month now, and he can feel that that’s _it_ for them, they’re _it_ for each other, so he isn’t really worried about the suddenness of it all, he’s just happy for Louis and a bit sorry for himself if he’s honest.

Because while Louis and Liam have mated and bonded, Zayn has fallen for Harry. Hard.

Harry, on his part, doesn’t seem interested in Zayn. They hang out with the rest of the lads, at their places or in bars and clubs, and an extremely high amount of flirting is always involved in Harry and Zayn’s interactions. But it never goes further than that, and Zayn has kinda resigned himself that Harry seemed interested in him that night at the club, but only because he was about to go into heat.

So they never talk about that night, about the kiss neither of them initiated, about what could have happened if Zayn hadn’t ruined it with his Alpha growling.

And Zayn is a bit ashamed to admit that he’s fallen for Harry so hard that he’d rather have him as just a friend than ruin everything all over again and lose even that small part of him he’s managed to get.

He’s learned to recognize Harry’s scent even in a crowd, even when they’re separated by walls and people. So that evening he knows who’s knocking at his door even before opening it and seeing a very sheepish Harry on his threshold.

“Haz?” Zayn frowns “Did I forget we were going out with the lads?”

Harry shakes his head with a smile. “No, no. I just… can I come in? I wanted to talk to you for a second”

Zayn lets Harry in, and for a wild second his heart roars at the possibility that Harry has had a sudden revelation overnight and realized he’s madly in love with Zayn and wants to grow old with him and bear his pups and marry him.

But he shakes his head, because those fantasies are too wild even for him to admit he has them sometimes, and besides, that kind of sudden realization only happens in movies, not in real life, and certainly not to Zayn.

As expected, Harry doesn’t say any of the extremely unlikely things Zayn has just imagined.

“So…” Harry starts, wringing his fingers and tormenting his rings “I might have fucked up a little bit with my whole extended family”

Zayn sighs compassionately and leads Harry to the couch. Harry never talks about his extended family, if not to point out how they always pester him about being almost thirty and not having found a mate yet. Zayn has suspected, more than once, that Harry’s worry about not being bonded yet mostly comes from whatever he has to listen to from his aunts and uncles and cousins. Because for the rest, whenever his family is not involved, he doesn’t seem particularly bummed at the idea of being unmated, much like Zayn.

 _Well, I would very much like to mate, but with someone_ very specific _, so it doesn’t really matter_ , he thinks grimly.

Luckily, Harry’s close family doesn’t put him that low with the mating situation. Harry’s mum, sister and stepfather are quite chill.

“What happened, babe?” Zayn asks when Harry just sighs and doesn’t explain.

Harry sighs again. “I… well, my cousin Martha, she’s getting married in two days, and like, my father called me to ask me if I would go ‘cause my mum, Gemma and Robin won’t go, ‘cause they’re on an impromptu vacation to Italy”

Zayn nods. “And?” he urges him.

Harry sighs for the umpteenth time. “And I told my father that I would go, and we were on speaker and my aunts and uncles were there, and they started, like, teasing me, asking me if I was gonna bring a plus one, and they were very rude about it, to be honest, they were, like, sarcastic, so…”

Zayn has to sigh himself now, closing his eyes and massaging his temples with his thumb and index, because he knows what’s coming.

“So I snapped and I told them that I actually found a mate, so I would indeed bring a plus one”

Zayn wants to laugh, because he perfectly knows how snappy Harry looks, and it’s frankly one of the most adorable things he’s ever fucking seen. But Harry looks dismayed and stressed, and Zayn would die rather than underestimate Harry being upset. And if Louis wants to call it ‘Zayn going into protective Alpha mode’, then so be it.

“What are you gonna do?” Zayn asks him gently after a moment.

Harry chuckles nervously. “Well, I only recently discarded the option of flying to Bahamas never to return” he says “So, I think, I guess, I have to ask an Alpha to be my fake mate for the wedding”

Zayn arches an eyebrow. “Haz, _how_ are you gonna find an Alpha to be your pretend boyfriend at a wedding in two days?”

Harry doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring at Zayn with his cheeks on flames, and oh. _Oh._

“Me?” Zayn asks, pointing at himself, and it’s more a squeak than a real question, but he can’t be arsed to care about that too.

Harry nods, looking at the ground. “If you want? If it’s not, like, too much?” he says “It would only be for a day and a half, and, like, of course we don’t have to mate for real, we could just tell ‘em the bonding marks are in some places we can’t really show, and then I’d tell ‘em that we broke up and we released each other from our bond and all that”

Harry has spoken quickly, much more quickly than he’s ever spoken, and Zayn’s head is spinning with a lot of different things, with longing for the man sitting next to him, with frustration for Harry only wanting it to be _fake_ while Zayn hasn’t been wanting anything more than for it to be _real_ since he bloody met him.

Harry interprets his silence in the wrong way, though, because he stands up and stutters. “Never mind, Zayn, I’m sorry I even asked, of course you don’t want to” he says, still tormenting his rings and looking everywhere except in Zayn’s eyes “I’m sorry. I would ask Liam but he’s bonded to Louis, and it would be too hard to pull that off, and besides, it wouldn’t be right towards Louis, so I asked you because you’re still unbonded as well and I thought…”

“Yeah”

Zayn’s word crawls out of his mouth before he really gives it permission to, but he’s not surprised. Harry’s stress and worry are hitting every termination of his brain, his mind whispering a never-ending string of _My Omega is in stress I need to help him take care of him help help help_ , and although Harry’s not exactly _his_ Omega, Zayn’s done denying that he feels too much like he is.

Harry blinks. “Yeah what?”

Zayn chuckles and stands up as well. “Yeah, Haz, I can help you” he says, feeling pressure being suddenly released in his chest “I can be your fake mate if you need me to be”

Harry’s pretty mouth gapes at Zayn. “Are you sure? I’m… like, it would help a lot if you could, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I can just, like, not go to the wedding, or grow a pair and confess I lied or summat”

Zayn’s laughing now. “Oh, babe, don’t even think about that. Your family already harasses you enough about this, you’ll never hear the end of it if you tell ‘em you lied”

Harry nods, surely agreeing. “Thanks, Zayn. I owe you, big time”

“You can repay me by telling me that I don’t have to wear anything that matches your hideously coloured suits” Zayn grins “When do we leave?”

 

*

 

“I think this is not only the worst idea of your life, but also the worst idea of _this century_ ” Louis declares that morning.

Harry’s gonna pick Zayn up in half an hour to drive to Holmes Chapel, his hometown, where they’ll stay at his childhood home with his father, his grandmother and an unspecified number of aunts and uncles. Zayn thinks it’s been really noble of Anne and Robin to allow Anne’s ex-husband and his relatives to use their house even if they’re away, but at the same time he wishes she hadn’t given her permission so that maybe Zayn and Harry could have stayed there alone.

“Hm?” Zayn hums, pretending not to have heard Louis’s comment from where he’s standing in front of his mirror to make his topknot look like it’s stylish instead of lazy.

Louis is sitting on Zayn’s bed, and he rolls his eyes, looking at Liam who’s sitting right next to him. “Can you please talk some sense into him?” Louis asks Liam “Maybe another Alpha can manage more than a little, clueless Omega?”

Liam chuckles and ruffles Louis’s hair. “You’re everything but little and clueless, babe, and you know it” he says, lowly and matter-of-factly.

Zayn’s probably gonna be sick over their blasting romance very soon. “You could have gone elsewhere if you just needed to be sickly in love” he comments, with literally zero heat behind his words.

Louis laughs. “Why be elsewhere when I can be sickly in love _in your face_ and also try to make you think this is gonna be a fucking tragedy?”

“I don’t think it’s gonna be a tragedy” Liam says, smiling at Zayn through the mirror, and yes, Zayn needs more honest smiles and less knowing grins. Liam’s great. “I think maybe it’s gonna be good for Harry and Zayn? Maybe they’re finally gonna pull their heads out of their arses and realize they’re made for each other?” Liam adds.

Liam, on hindsight, is terrible. “I just decided I don’t approve of your relationship” Zayn deadpans.

Liam looks like he’s genuinely believing Zayn, if his outraged gasp is any indication, but Louis just laughs at Zayn. “Tough luck, my friend. That ship has sailed” he answers, pointing at the bond mark on his neck. Then he rolls his eyes at Liam. “He’s _joking_ , Liam, don’t get your amazing and extremely satisfying knot in a twist”

Liam chuckles nervously and blushes. “Oh, okay”

Zayn laughs. “I do think you’re the best Alpha this one could ever find, Liam” he says, explicitly, because not even the most heartless Alpha could ever resist Liam’s puppy eyes. “And I also think this is a good idea and I can help Harry with his family since he needs it” he adds, for Louis mostly, because it’s always better to be clear with Louis as well.

Louis arches both his eyebrows. “I hope that at least you’ll both get some _real_ sex out of this. All the not-so-secret wanking is making me feel like I’m constantly about to go into heat”

Zayn tries not to stutter and concentrates on his hair. “I doubt that’s gonna happen for many reasons, one of them being that we’re gonna sleep with Grandma Georgie right across the hallway” he quips “Besides, you shouldn’t complain about fake heats. At least you’re not having the real ones like Harry”

Louis and Liam exchange a glance, but Zayn promptly ignores them in favour of grimly thinking that Harry still not being on suppressants anymore and going into real heats means that he’s not abandoned his quest to find a (real) mate. Like he’s not even _considering_ Zayn as mate material.

He shakes his head to get rid of the thought of Harry eventually finding someone. _Someone else_.

He smells Harry’s scent just a second before he’s knocking on the door. Louis and Liam step out of the room to take care of letting him in as Zayn shrugs his leather jacket over his white Henley and grabs his bag, plus the dark blue cover bag Harry has lent him to “store your suit properly, Zayn, it’s a fucking Gucci, for Christ’s sake”. (Zayn has had that suit since Doniya’s wedding, but he would be lying if he said he knew the brand before Harry saw it and gaped at it for half an hour).

When he steps into the living room, Harry’s there, talking to Liam and Louis. He’s just wearing skinnies and a black t-shirt, and his curls are loose, kept back from his face by the sunglasses he has perched on the top of his head.

 _This is not only the worst idea of your life, but also the worst idea of this century_ , Louis has said, and Zayn is very much inclined to believe him, because now that Harry’s there, ready to go, it hits him that they’ll spend two days glued by the hip, pretending to be mates, Jesus, they’ll probably even have to _kiss_ at some point, and Zayn desperately doesn’t want it to be just a show, just fake.

As it is, what’s done is done, and Zayn desperately wants to help Harry as well, so he also better make a good show out of it, even. At least Harry will gain something from it, and his relatives will finally leave him alone.

They say bye to Louis and Liam with the promise to drive safely and text them when they reach Holmes Chapel, and then they’re sitting in Harry’s Range Rover, their bags on the passenger seat and their suits hanging from the handles on the car ceiling in the back, in their cover bags.

Harry starts the car and Zayn hooks his iPod to the radio, shuffling through his music until he settles on the cover of _House of The Rising Sun_ by Dolly Parton, because he’s sure Harry likes it.

Harry gives him a big grin from under his shades, and starts to sing dramatically, while Zayn just looks at him, too mesmerized by his voice and his grins and his scent so heavy in the car to do anything but stare.

_I’m so fucking fucked, Louis is right._

As they keep going up the highway, when the song is over, Harry lowers the volume of the radio and gradually stops grinning and laughing. “How did we meet?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

Zayn frowns. “Haz? You okay?”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, no, I mean. We need, like, a backstory, right? Of how we met and how we started dating. In case someone asks, and believe me, they fucking will”

Zayn, despite the looming frustration he feels, has to grin at that. “Need to impress Grandma Georgie”

Harry chuckles. “That we do”

“I think the more truth we give, the better we’ll be able to handle it, right?” Zayn says, looking ahead because he doesn’t even wanna know what expression sits on Harry’s beautiful face “So, like, we can tell ‘em we met after the incident with the dry cleaning. They swapped our clothes and then I found out who the ones I got belonged to, and I came to return them”

“And then I told you that I was grateful you returned my clothes, but I wouldn’t mind if you took off the ones you had on as well” Harry grins.

Zayn snorts. “You wish”

“Yeah, I really do” Harry sighs, his grin gone.

Zayn doesn’t ask what he means. He doesn’t want to fuck anything up, especially not if they have to look at their best in front of Harry’s family. “So I told you to take me to dinner first” he continues their _fake fake fake_ story.

Harry smiles. “I didn’t take you to dinner, I invited you at my place and cooked for you. Made samosas. You loved ‘em”

Zayn chuckles as well, but he can’t resist adding another thing that maybe he shouldn’t say. “I did. And then after dinner I decided to take you on your offer and I did remove my clothes”

Harry’s got a faint blush spread over his cheeks where they touch his sunglasses since he’s still grinning widely, dimples showing. “And the rest was history” he concludes “Although we might want to leave out the thing about removing clothes for gran. She is almost eighty. A pain in the arse, but I don’t want her to have a coronary”

Zayn laughs. “Sure, babe, we can censor our story for your gran, but from what you told me about her, I think she’s gonna ask for that kind of details herself” he comments while Harry laughs “But I’ll brag about it with your cousin Stephen. ‘Cause I hate him and I want him to be traumatised by the time the wedding is over”

Harry barks a laugh. “Why do you hate Stephen?”

Zayn shrugs. “You told me how low he puts you. I’ll make sure his jaw gets fucking unhinged in surprise when he sees how smitten your mate is over you”

Harry smiles, his cheeks even redder. “Thanks, Zayn. You didn’t have to”

“Alpha” Zayn points at himself “Omega in distress” he points at Harry, and then he grins “Couldn’t resist” he adds.

Harry doesn’t answer, but the small smile never leaves his lips after that.

 

*

 

Holmes Chapel is, quite frankly, a shitty place.

It’s even smaller than Bradford, _infinitely smaller_ , and Zayn used to think Bradford was a shithole.

“More or less five thousand people” Harry says with a shrug when it takes three minutes for them to reach his old house from the border of the town “It’s a _village_ , Zayn” he adds in a dramatic hiss.

Zayn snorts. “Well, it produced you. I think it’s okay”

Harry stutters and blushes. “C’mon, you twat. You don’t need to be in character yet” he mutters, punching him in the arm and getting out of the car. Zayn feels pain at that, and it’s certainly not coming from the punch.

As soon as Zayn steps out of the car and looks at the small two-storey house in the middle of nowhere, he perfectly sees at least four people eyeing them from behind the windows in what is probably the living room.

He doesn’t pay them any mind, but slowly circles the car to reach Harry, who’s crouched in the backseat door to pull out their bags. Zayn slides his palm to the small of Harry’s back, and smiles more earnestly than he can admit when Harry squeals a little and jolts, straightening his back.

“Zayn?” Harry asks, taken aback when Zayn carefully wraps his arms around his neck.

Zayn keeps smiling at him. “I might have to start being in character alright, babe” he whispers “Because your whole extended family’s watching us from the windows”

Harry stares at Zayn’s lips when he speaks, and Zayn decides he’ll feel guilty about the whole lie _later_. Now, he’ll make a good show out of it for Harry, and he’ll be the best fucking mate his family could wish for him.

So Zayn leans in, and kisses Harry.

He’d like to say that it’s just for the sake of the show, but it’s so _not_ , when their lips collide. Zayn could leave it at that, a lovely peck on the lips, but then Harry sags against him, his hands dropping the bag and grabbing Zayn by the hips, and _his scent._

Harry’s scent is pushing up Zayn’s nostrils like it’s something physical, like Zayn has never been able to smell anything before it and will never able to smell anything else after it. He sighs against Harry’s lips, and Harry opens his mouth, and Zayn has no restraint left in his body.

He slides his tongue in Harry’s mouth. Harry almost whimpers against him, but he responds to the kiss, eagerly so, while half of Zayn’s mind is whirling around the fact that Harry will smell like _Zayn_ as well after this, their scents will be mixed for anyone else to know Harry’s fucking _his_.

He pushes down the ugly voice in his head that tells him _not for real though_ , and pushes his tongue more against Harry’s, swallowing down all of Harry’s sighs with his lips and tongue.

They stop to catch their breath just when Harry whimpers again and grinds his hips a little bit, but Zayn pushes his own hips back, because he can be fake all he wants, but if God forbid he realizes Harry’s just as half-hard as he feels, he won’t manage to restrain himself for real.

Zayn keeps smiling and leans his forehead against Harry’s, chuckling at the way Harry’s eyes cross to look at him. “Slow down, babe” he whispers “Don’t wanna give gran Georgie a coronary now, do we?”

Harry chuckles, his eyes closing as he inhales a little. “Yeah” he just says.

They slowly detach themselves and get busy with their bags and suits. Harry locks the car as they make their way along the short gravel pathway that leads to the house, and when they get there, Harry rings the bell.

The door opens in less than a second, a man with grey hair and a blonde slim woman smiling ear-to-ear at them. “Harry!” the woman exclaims “You’re already here!”

 _As if you weren’t spying on us from the window_ , Zayn thinks. It’s gonna be a long two days.

Harry smiles politely. “Aunt Flora” he says “Dad” he adds for the man.

Zayn gently takes Harry’s bag and suit from his hands so that he can be free to hug his father, which Harry does after giving Zayn a small smile. Zayn lets Harry hug his dad and aunt, and when they’re done Harry sheepishly looks at Zayn before turning to look at the two people on the other side of the threshold. “Dad, Aunt Flora, this is Zayn. My… my mate”

Des Styles and Aunt Flora smile at Zayn, shaking his hand when Harry takes back his own bag. Des even pats him on the shoulder, to which Zayn’s whole body rattles, but he keeps smiling politely. _Alpha_ , he thinks, and then _Omega_ , as he studies Harry’s aunt.

They usher them inside, Des taking both their bags and their suits and going somewhere upstairs with their luggage. Harry grabs Zayn’s hand, probably more for comfort than for show, because his palm is clammed and he’s shaking a little bit. Zayn pulls him back for a second, in the corridor, and grabs his jaws to make him look at him. “Haz, babe?”

Harry nods.

“Relax” Zayn tells him “It’s gonna be okay”

“I’m sorry I’m freaking out. My family, they’re… a lot”

Zayn nods too. “We’ll show them lot” he says decidedly.

Harry chuckles and hugs Zayn for a fraction of second before they finally emerge into the living room.

There’s only three more people in there, sitting on the couch and standing up when they catch sight of them. An old woman with a long, white braid is the first to hug Harry, Harry almost bending in half to reach her petite frame. “Gran” he says “Missed you”

“You would visit more often if you really did” the old woman retorts with a snarly laugh, and Harry laughs nervously, releasing her from his hug. _Definitely Alpha_ , Zayn thinks.

 Harry turns to a tall man in his fifties and hugs him too. “Uncle Pete” he says, and then does the same with the other man, slightly younger and shorter than the first, calling him “Uncle Oliver” and hugging him as well. _Beta and Beta_.

The three people introduce themselves to Zayn (Grandma Georgie tells Harry that she feels his mate is packing a huge knot, to which Harry almost chokes on his own spit and coughs up a lung, and Zayn laughs nervously, patting him on the back to help him).

Dinner with Harry’s father and relatives goes quite smoothly. They settle at the table in the kitchen, where Zayn notices pictures of Harry with his mum and sister and stepfather glued on the fridge.

Harry and Zayn make a show of calling each other ‘babe’ and lightly brushing each other’s arms when they lean over to grab something from the table, and Zayn’s probably stupid, but he doesn’t honestly feel like he’s acting any differently around Harry than he usually does when they’re not lying.

Before it’s even time for dessert, Grandma Georgie has asked them already twice about how they met and how they mated, and they’ve delivered their little half-lie.

“Yes, but how did you _mate_?” the old woman asks, rolling her eyes.

“Mum” Flora growls a little “Behave”

Flora is the youngest among them, except for Zayn and Harry, and she sends an apologetic smile to both of them, probably understanding their discomfort. Zayn likes Flora better than the rest of Harry’s family, because Harry’s told him she’s the only one who’s never felt the need to pressure him about anything, mating included.

Grandma Georgie shrugs. “What? It’s a legit question. It’s just mating, no shame in that”

There’s no shame in mating and she’s right, Zayn thinks, but at the same time how can they think it’s okay to ask people about how such a private thing happened? Or, _didn’t happen_ , in their particular case.

Harry chuckles embarrassedly. “It happened like any other mating, gran” he says, fidgeting with the hem of the tablecloth. Zayn instinctively grabs his hand under the table, and Harry seems to relax instantly. He smiles at his grandma and continues. “We felt like it was time, he bit me, I bit him, and that was it”

Georgie frowns, and Zayn tries not to shiver bodily at the very vivid image Harry’s words just created for him. “I don’t see any bond mark” the old woman answers.

“Mum, stop giving them the fucking third grade” Flora tries, eyeing Harry and Zayn with what looks like a little bit of pure shame.

Zayn tries to smile at her, shaking his head to tell her there’s no point in trying to stop such an old Alpha as her own mother.

Harry, to his credit, grins. “They’re in places we can’t really show you, gran” he reveals.

The old woman stares at Harry for a long second, and then bursts laughing hard. “Oh, Jesus, I _knew_ you had it in you, my boy” she says “Just a late bloomer you are, same as when you made us wait all that time to present. You go into heat afterwards?”

Harry’s grip is crushing Zayn’s fingers under the table. “Yeah. ‘S normal, I’m told, innit?”

The old Alpha nods. “It is. Might even be already expecting”

Harry flushes a deep crimson. “Slow down now, gran. It’s still early for that. We’ll see in the future”

Zayn smiles in the way his mother says can make angels go to hell. “Harry’s still concentrating on getting his lawyer license” he says amicably, stroking Harry’s cheek with his thumb “We can think about a family once that’s done. No rush, eh, babe?”

Harry smiles at Zayn like he hung all the stars and the moon, and nods. “Yeah. No rush”

Zayn sees Des smile at them with the corner of his eye, and Flora also smiles like she’s genuinely happy for them, and he feels a bit like a fraud, but now he gets why Harry was so stressed about this whole thing. If there are more people that pressure him like Georgie does, then Zayn cannot blame Harry for being so worried about finally finding a mate, or thinking there’s something wrong with him if he doesn’t.

As soon as dessert is over, Zayn asks Harry if he can go out and smoke a cigarette, and Harry eagerly nods, telling him he’ll come with him.

As soon as they’re out of the house, under the back porch, Zayn lights his cigarette and Harry sighs, slowly leaning forward to rest his forehead on Zayn’s collarbone. “’M sorry about this. Maybe it was a shit idea after all” he mutters.

His hair smells like coconut and _Harry_ , and his breath his warm against Zayn’s skin, but Zayn calms down his erratic breath by taking another drag before, gently pulling Harry’s hair backwards so that he’ll raise his head and look at him. “Haz, babe, it’s fine. You don’t need validation from these people to know there’s nothing wrong with you” he says seriously “But I get why you would do that, and get them off your back for a while. It’s okay. We can do this”

Harry sighs and nods. “Can I stay like this for a little while?” he asks, setting his forehead to Zayn’s collarbone again.

Zayn chuckles. “Until you need it, babe”

 

*

 

Zayn thinks Harry’s flashy suits would look ridiculous on any other human being, but he somehow manages to pull them off. He’s wearing a red suit printed with huge flowers in purple and green, with a simple black shirt underneath it, his long hair curling loosely around his face, and he looks like he’s come out of a fucking fashion magazine.

It puts Zayn’s simple dark blue suit to shame, but Zayn wouldn’t have it any other way. He feels like all the attention in the world should go to Harry, while at the same time he wishes he could be the only one allowed to look at Harry forever.

The ceremony goes quite well, and Harry even cries a little, despite there being zero relationship between him and the bride, his cousin Martha, or Mark, the groom. Zayn chuckles at Harry being so moved by basically a stranger’s wedding, and smiles while he wipes Harry’s tears away with his thumbs.

He feels like he could get dangerously used to all of this. All of this fucking _pretence._

After the ceremony’s over, they all drive to a nice hotel with a big fancy yard and pool, where the newlyweds have their reception. There are a lot of white tables in the yard, and Harry and Zayn carefully hold hands while they roam around to read the names on the tables until they find theirs.

Harry sighs. “Are they fucking kidding me?” he murmurs.

“What?” Zayn asks, his arm sliding around Harry’s waist, because he has to, and because he _can_.

Harry shakes his hair. “They sat us with Flora and her husband, and… Stephen and his boyfriend”

“And?”

Harry sighs. “And Stephen’s boyfriend is even more unnerving than he is”

Zayn chuckles and slowly strokes Harry’s hip with his thumb. “’S fine, babe. You’ll show off your suit and your Alpha until they gag”

Harry smiles tightly and doesn’t reply as he sits down at their table. Zayn does the same, pulling Harry’s chair until they’re closer and making Harry squeak a startled laugh. _Good. I want you to laugh all the fucking time_ , Zayn thinks.

Flora and her husband Michael are the first to join them at the table, Michael introducing himself very politely at Zayn. He’s a seemingly good Alpha, not trying to come in Zayn’s space just because of what his instincts tell him, and not giving Zayn the dirty eye even when he compliments Flora’s dress, which oddly matches Harry’s suit.

Harry grins. “We coordinated our outfits beforehand” he tells Zayn, winking at his aunt “We’re the only ones with a sense of fashion in this family, I’m afraid”

“Hey” Michael complains good-naturedly, tugging one of Harry’s curls, and Zayn knows he’s just an uncle joking with his nephew, but he has to actively fight the growl that threatens to rise in his throat. Flora looks at him with a knowing smirk, and then subtly grabs her husband’s hand and lowers it. “New mates” she whispers to him.

Michael blushes. “Oh. Yeah. I’m sorry”

Harry laughs. “You’re fine, uncle Mike” he says “Zayn’s…”

Zayn never gets to know what he _is_ , because right that moment someone behind them interrupts Harry.

“Wow, Haz, you _did_ bring a plus one? We were betting on if you’d show up alone or skip the wedding entirely”

Zayn is the first to turn, looking at two men in matching grey suits. The one who’s spoken is an Alpha, blonde with clear eyes. The other’s an Omega, a bit shorter and with straight brown hair.

Harry smiles tightly. “Stephen, Aaron, this is Zayn, my mate” he says quickly.

The Alpha, Harry’s cousin Stephen, shakes hands with him, grinning. “Didn’t think it was true, sorry”

“I’m afraid it is” Zayn replies coldly.

The Omega, Aaron, doesn’t even bother shaking hands with Zayn. The couple sits in the last two vacant seats at their table, and an uncomfortable silence settles on them all, until Flora takes pity on them and starts chatting Harry and Zayn up about their studies, their hobbies, their friends, how life is in Leeds.

It’s when Harry and Flora start talking about what Harry’s doing to get his lawyer license (she’s a lawyer as well) that apparently Stephen and Aaron have enough.

Stephen leans into Zayn. “So, how come Harry waited this long before telling us he’s finally getting some knot?” he snickers.

Zayn feels a rush of possessiveness and anger course down his spine, but he tries to be more like Harry and smile politely. “Maybe Harry didn’t feel like sharing his extremely satisfying sex life with the whole world”

Stephen chuckles. “Never had a problem with that before”

 _I’m gonna fucking kill you_. “I like to think I’m different” he says curtly, starting to feel his skin get warmer.

It’s Aaron who laughs this time. “Wouldn’t know about that. I’ve only dated the one Alpha” he points at Stephen “Lovely Haz here was more of a… _needy slut_ , let’s leave it at that”

Zayn grips the edge of the table. “I beg your pardon?” he growls.

Stephen pulls Aaron back, like he wants to shield him from Zayn, and he bares his teeth. “Stay back” he growls at Zayn.

Zayn growls right back. “Don’t speak about him like that _ever_ again”

“Zayn”

Zayn instantly deflates at the worried tone in which Harry’s calling him. He turns to look at Harry, realizing that Flora and Michael have gone, probably to get drinks for the rest of them, and Harry is there, eyes wide, and he’s most likely listened to what Aaron has said about him.

Harry shakes his head and slowly grabs Zayn’s hand, the one which is still gripping the table. “It’s okay” he whispers in Zayn’s ear.

Zayn shakes his head as well. “No, it’s not. These two are supposed to be your family, and they’re…”

Harry chuckles bitterly, but he interrupts Zayn by kissing him, right in front of his cousin and his boyfriend, grabbing Zayn’s jaws and pulling him more against him, licking into his mouth with a sigh.

Zayn deflates some more, Harry’s scent hitting him even more than usual, his whole body feeling heated and wired. “It’s okay” Harry repeats.

Stephen and Aaron have gone silent.

And well, Zayn’s a little shit, and he also doesn’t do well with dares and accusations such as the ones he read in Stephen and Aaron’s eyes, so he does what he does best, and pretends he and Harry are alone even with a crowd. “I just get angry when people don’t see how good you are for me, babe” he purrs on Harry’s lips “Like they can’t possibly know how well you take my knot and how slick you get for me and how you don’t quite feel like anybody else I’ve ever been with, and how I don’t quite feel like anybody else you’ve ever been with either”

Harry’s face has gone purple, and he whimpers a laugh on Zayn’s lips as Zayn keeps stage-whispering filth to him just to embarrass their audience, until Stephen and Aaron murmur a curse and excuse themselves, leaving them properly alone.

“That was mean” Harry swats at Zayn’s shoulder, but his eyes are laughing.

Zayn chuckles. “Told ya good ol’ Stephen had it coming”

“You just told ‘em I’ve got your bond mark on my arse-cheek” Harry arches an eyebrow.

Zayn snorts. “Gotta keep it coherent with the story we told your gran”

Harry giggles, and they kiss again.

Zayn resolutely doesn’t think about the fact they’re alone, and nobody’s there to witness that kiss.

 

*

 

By the time the wedding reception is done, Zayn feels more hot and bothered than he’s been in a while, and he blames it on the alcohol Flora and Michael have kept feeding him and Harry, and also on a couple of dances they shared, where Harry was grinding his hips into Zayn’s in a way that painfully reminded him of the only other dance they’d had before.

Zayn’s tie is untied, and Harry’s undone the top buttons of his black shirt at the end of the night. Zayn feels a layer of sweat coat his neck, and he knows he probably reeks of Alpha bodily fluids, but Flora doesn’t care as she pulls him in a hug while Michael does the same with Harry. “It’s been lovely meeting you, Zayn” Flora whispers to him “Take care of him, yeah? For real”

Zayn feels guilt creep up his spine at Flora’s choice of words, but there’s no way she could have realized the lie, so he tries to relax and loosens his tie a bit more. “I will” he assures her.

They make quick work of saying goodbye to the rest of Harry’s family, promising Des that they’ll visit him more often and assuring Grandma Georgie that they won’t wait until she’s finally dead to visit _her_ , until they’re finally free to go. Zayn notices Stephen and Aaron look sulkily at them as they go, so Zayn takes the liberty of squeezing Harry’s arse in their face just because.

Harry squeals and laughs as they make their way to Harry’s car.

Harry throws his keys at Zayn. “You drive” he announces.

Zayn catches the keys and rolls his eyes, circling the car to hip-check Harry and push him away from the driver’s seat. They slide inside the car, their positions switched compared to when they’d gotten to Holmes Chapel, and Zayn starts the car.

“I’m sorry about Stephen and Aaron” Harry murmurs after maybe twenty minutes of silent driving in the deserted highway at night.

“It’s fine, Haz. They’re the dickheads, it’s not your fault” Zayn answers, wiping at his temple where he can feel a rivet of sweat going down. It’s so fucking hot to be the end of February. Zayn rolls the window down a little bit.

Harry shrugs. “I dunno, I figured you didn’t like to come to know what an Omega slut I was in my old days” he chuckles, self-deprecatingly.

Zayn, despite how fucking warm he feels, turns to meet Harry’s eyes. “Haz, look at me” he demands, and it’s almost a growl. He clears his throat.

Harry shivers, but obeys.

“You’re an adult with a brain, and the way you decide to live your life doesn’t make you needy or a slut or whatever they said” Zayn says carefully “You felt like fucking a hundred Alphas, then so what? Everybody fucks. The fact that you’re an Omega doesn’t have to allow people to call you a slut. If you were an Alpha, they’d just say you’re _good in the sack_. It’s sexist, and you don’t have to listen to them”

Harry stutters a bit, clearly overwhelmed by Zayn’s speech on equal rights, but he only addresses one of the matters. “It wasn’t _a hundred_ ” he clarifies in a mutter “Twenty, tops”

Zayn laughs. He feels madly jealous of those twenty fucking Alphas who got to have Harry splayed on a bed or shoved against a wall or whatever, and he feels like he could fucking _kill_ to get just a small taste of that, of this man in floral printed suits and curls and dimples and _scent, Jesus_.

Zayn wipes his forehead again, feeling like Harry’s scent has never been stronger for some reason.

“Zayn, are you okay?” Harry asks, a frown in his voice.

His voice is so fucking sexy, Zayn thinks, he wants to take it from Harry’s throat and hide it in his pocket. _Mine mine mine_ , his brain supplies.

“Fuck” Harry breathes, and Zayn feels and hears him inhale deeply “Zayn, slow down, park here” he points at a service area coming up at their left, but Zayn doesn’t get why Harry wants to stop, he’s feeling a bit hot but he’s not that… “Zayn! I said park here!”

Harry’s needy shriek startles him, and Zayn does what Harry’s asking. He curves left, slowing down as he slides the car in one of the many vacant slots for parking. Everything is deserted around them, although Zayn can see the actual service area is open, with a shop on the other side.

“Fuck” Harry hisses again “Zayn?”

Zayn looks at him. He’s so fucking beautiful, Zayn doesn’t even know how he manages to be even more beautiful every passing day, his eyes are so green, his mouth is so pink.

Harry inhales and his eyes roll back in his head. “Zayn, you’re going into rut” he growls.

Zayn wants to laugh, because that’s so _not_ a possibility, and…

“Fuck” Zayn hisses, because Harry’s right.

He can feel himself fill up in his trousers, but it’s not a normal excitement, he feels like he needs to knot or he’ll lose his mind, he feels like he needs something, _someone_ , to be _his_. “Harry get out” he manages to spit, his voice rumbling incessantly.

Harry shakes his head. “No, no, no, I gotta be fucking mental to leave you like this” he answers, and there’s a growl in his voice as well.

“I don’t know why” Zayn replies, frantically breathing in and out, the feeling is so overwhelming, _Harry_ is so overwhelming, Zayn wants, _needs_ , to get him naked and slick for him.

“Aren’t you on suppressants?” Harry asks, gentler than Zayn ever feels he could be.

Zayn nods. “I am” he confirms, and then rustles in his jacket, because he’s not lying, _he is_ , so he takes out the blister-pack of pills from the inside pocket of his jacket.

He looks at it. There are twenty-eight pills in the blister pack, one for each day of this month, and Zayn realizes how bad he fucked up when he looks at the numbers inked on the pack. “Fuck” he breathes out “I… oh, fuck”

“What, Zayn?” Harry exclaims.

“I skipped four pills in the last two weeks” Zayn says quickly “Haz, I’m sorry, you gotta get out of here, I’m…”

Harry inhales. “You smell so good, Zayn” he whispers, and the next moment his hand is running up Zayn’s thigh, close, so close to his dick and the knot Zayn desperately wants to give him.

Zayn thinks someone has to make him a saint or something, when he gathers enough strength to stop Harry’s hand. He gets a tight hold of his wrist, managing to ignore how bodily Harry shivers.

“No, Haz” he growls.

Harry’s face falls. He looks like Zayn’s just started gutting him right there and then. “Zayn, let me help you”

“No, Harry, you don’t want this” Zayn grits out “It’s just the scent, you don’t really…”

Harry scoffs and doesn’t let him finish. Instead, he flails his long limbs until he’s straddling Zayn, and Zayn thinks he’s probably about to die with how fucking _good_ the only slight pressure of their hard – _too hard already_ – dicks together feels.

Harry’s pupils are a little blown, but Zayn’s sure they aren’t as blown as his own. “I want it” Harry almost whimpers “I want to help you. You helped me. Now you need me”

Zayn tries. He really tries to push Harry away again, but then Harry’s lips are on his own, and he feels his whole body surge forward to delete the small distance still left between their chests. Harry moans in Zayn’s mouth when Zayn’s hands greedily grab his arse, pushing him forward until their dicks are grinding together with a force that starts to be painful because of the clothes still separating them.

There’s absolutely no space for Zayn to do to Harry everything he wants to, everything he’s been dreaming of doing to him for the past month. But Harry somehow manages to get rid of his own trousers and pants, and he also opens Zayn’s trousers enough for his hand to snake inside and take out his hard dick.

“Fucking finally” Harry mutters, but Zayn thinks he’s just imagining things at this point.

He slides his hands down Harry’s arse, growling more when he feels just how slick he is. “Fuck, fuck, I need this, I want this” Zayn articulates, ad Harry nods frantically, bringing back his own hand to push at Zayn’s fingers where they are.

Zayn takes the hint and slips two fingers inside of Harry at once. Harry arches his back, and Zayn wants to have him completely naked, his scent is everywhere and he wants to smell it _more more more_ , but it’s too late. His body’s telling him _you waited enough, this is what you want, mine mine mine_.

Harry lets him prep him for too short of a time, and then starts to nod again. “I want it, I want it, give it to me, please Zayn please” he pleads, his pale pale neck glistening with sweat as he throws his head back.

Zayn licks a stripe up Harry’s Adam’s apple, and then nods too, grabbing Harry’s hips to lift him just enough to line himself with his hole.

Harry’s the one who starts sinking down on Zayn’s dick, and Zayn feels the need to be quick and rough and just fuck up into him, but he restrains his whole body to the point it hurts, and waits for Harry to be fully seated on his lap. “So good so good so good” Harry whimpers, licking his red lips over and over again “Fuck me Zayn fuck me”

Zayn does. He lifts Harry’s hips again, slamming his whole body down hard. Harry screams, his eyes closing and opening rhythmically, and Zayn keeps doing that, his mind telling him _you need to make him feel good and you need to feel good as well_.

It becomes rushed and rough and fast after barely four thrusts. Harry starts to eagerly bounce on Zayn’s dick, helped by the hands Zayn still has on his hips, and a string of filth leaves both their mouths.

“So fucking good you’re filling me so good babe been wanting this for ages your dick your hands your eyes everything” Harry murmurs, his neck still bared for Zayn, and Zayn bites it, leaves a love bite that will become a bruise sooner rather than later.

“So tight so fucking tight and so fucking wet for me” Zayn replies, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, only that Harry needs to know it.

He feels his orgasm approaching, and he compliments himself for the sliver of control he manages to gain as he forcibly stops Harry’s hips from bucking. “I’m coming, babe, you need to move”

“I want your knot” Harry says, and his eyes are not glazed over anymore, he’s conscious, maybe more conscious than Zayn.

But Zayn knows how Harry hates when Alphas knot him without being allowed to, and what if Harry’s only saying he wants it because he thinks he _owes_ Zayn something? Zayn’s not sure that any sex-craze could fix _that_ afterwards.

Harry must know what he’s thinking. “You’re not a stranger, you’re not just _some Alpha_ ” he breathes on Zayn’s mouth “Come, Zayn. Come and knot me. I want it”

_Come, Zayn. Come and knot him. He wants it._

Zayn hopes Harry really means it, because that’s all it takes for his orgasm to crash over him and for his knot to swell at the base of his dick. His knot slowly but surely pops past Harry’s rim while Zayn comes, locking them together for the time being, and Harry comes as well with a shout, painting their stomachs and their open shirts with white.

The thought that his knot is what makes Harry come is wild, but Zayn entertains it nonetheless, because his mind feels more clear now that he’s fucked the need out of his body, at least for a little while.

He doesn’t even know how he will manage to undergo a full rut without having Harry’s warm body next to him, now that he knows what it feels.

They don’t speak while they’re still locked by Zayn’s knot. It takes maybe ten minutes for it to deflate until Harry’s able to remove himself from Zayn’s lap with an uncomfortable hiss.

He stays there for one more moment, though, and grabs Zayn’s face, speaking with their lips brushing at every word. “I’m gonna go get us some water” he drawls “And then we’re gonna drive the remaining forty minutes to your place” he instructs.

Zayn only nods, inhaling Harry’s scent, the way he smells like sex and himself and _Zayn_.

Harry’s not done talking. “If you feel the need to fuck me again, you’ll pull over and you will” he says “And once we get to your place, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your rut”

Zayn shakes his head. “Haz, babe, you don’t have to…”

“I want to” Harry interrupts him “Do you want me to?”

Zayn nods lamely. Harry smiles. “I got you, babe” he tells Zayn, kissing him dirtily before stepping out of the car and running to the shop.

 

*

 

They fuck twice on the way back. Both times, Zayn pulls over in an emergency lay-by and has Harry ride him at a pace so fast he feels dizzy with it, with his scent and the bouncing of his curls and the way his knot feels like it’s made to fit in Harry’s body.

They finally get to Zayn’s place and Zayn feels his _need_ surface once more as they cross the street towards Zayn’s building.

There are two girls, barely out of their teens, smoking on a bench by the building, apparently not bothered by how late in the night it is.

They eye Zayn. _Omegas_ , he thinks, but he doesn’t feel the slightest pull towards them, not with Harry carefully grabbing his elbow and directing him towards the house, a warning glance shot towards the two giggling girls.

“Need a hand with that rut?” one of them asks cheekily, pointing at her own nose.

Zayn doesn’t even answer, because Harry’s quicker. “He’s all set, cheers” he growls at them.

Zayn chuckles as Harry shoves him inside the gate of the building. “Pissing on your territory?” he asks Harry with a grin.

Harry rolls his eyes and then crosses his arms, staring at Zayn with a daring expression. “You can go knot them if you prefer” he states.

Zayn’s whole body reacts at Harry’s jealousy and discomfort. He feels a pull, and doesn’t fight it, trapping Harry against the wall and licking a fat stripe up his neck. “I’m all set, cheers” he rumbles on Harry’s pulse-point.

Harry shivers. “Open this fucking door then, before I explode”

Zayn’s hands are shaking with want, but he manages to obey anyway.

 

*

 

Zayn has Harry on his hands and knees on the bed so fast he doesn’t even properly remember getting inside the house, leaving their bags somewhere, and discarding all their clothes.

He’s on his own knees behind Harry, the expanse of his broad, pale back bared before him like a present, like something to keep and worship forever, same as the needy breaths and moans Harry’s letting out as Zayn fingers him senseless.

“Zayn, come on, please” he whines, turning his head to look at Zayn behind him.

He’s so slick Zayn doesn’t even need any lube, Zayn didn’t even know Omegas could get so slick outside their heats, and…

Fuck, he thinks as he stops all movements. Harry’s not on suppressants either. He knows about Alphas going into ruts and setting off sympathy heats in their Omegas, and what if…

“Haz, you’re not on suppressants either” he manages to choke out “What if I set off a sympathy heat and…”

Harry shakes his head. “You won’t. Don’t worry, babe. It’s not gonna happen”

Harry’s soothing voice is sure, and Zayn decides to believe him. He slowly sets a hand on the small of Harry’s back, lightly pushing him down, until Harry sighs and drops on his elbows, his face into the mattress. “You have to tell me if it’s too much, babe, yeah?” Zayn tells him, because he also knows Omegas can take fucking every hour when they’re in heat, but it can be too overwhelming and tiring when they’re not, and Zayn will fucking _will_ his rut away if he thinks even for a second that he’s wearing Harry out too much.

Harry nods. “I will. I’ll tell you. I promise. I need you now, Zayn” he breathes.

Zayn feels the pull to Harry again, and quickly lines himself up, pushing into him in one harsh thrust.

Harry squirms and shouts underneath him, his body propelled backwards to meet Zayn’s thrusts, and Zayn growls, because he can’t think how the fuck he managed to go all his life without Harry next to him, in his bed with him, slick for him and whining pleas and Zayn’s name like that.

“So good” Zayn murmurs “So fucking good, need to knot you again, can I knot you again babe please please please”

Harry nods, his curls scratching the pillow where his cheek is buried. “Yes, yes, fill me up, Zayn, knot me until I fucking die with it”

Zayn lets out a louder growl at that, and he starts bucking his hips hard against Harry, while Harry takes it, his hands fisting the sheets and his back arched.

Zayn knows he won’t last much this time, because he already feels too on the edge just by looking at Harry arching his whole body for him.

He bends forward, grabbing Harry’s hands and pulling him up on his knees, so that his back is moulded to Zayn’s chest and he can suck a mark on his shoulder, and another on his neck, while still fucking hard into him the way he now knows Harry likes.

“Can you come just from this?” he asks Harry, his breath on his hear raising goose-bumps all over Harry’s arms “Just from me fucking you? Without touching yourself?”

Harry whimpers and nods. Zayn gets a firmer hold of his hips as he pounds even faster into him, and Harry’s arms fly backwards, wrapping around Zayn’s neck behind him.

“ _Mine_ ” Zayn growls, and then he thinks he’s fucked up, because he already growled that word at Harry once, and Harry hated him in that moment.

Now, though, Harry sighs and comes on the spot, moaning loudly and digging his nails in the nape of Zayn’s neck while he comes over his own chest and the sheets. “Yeah, Zayn” he says when he’s recovered his breath “Yours”

Those words and Harry clenching around him send Zayn over the edge as well. He comes, his knot sliding past Harry’s rim in a delicious pressure, and Harry sags against his chest, limp and breathless, much more than Zayn himself is.

He carefully manoeuvres them both until they’re lying down on their sides, still locked together. “Sleep, babe” Zayn whispers in the nape of Harry’s neck.

Harry nods. “Wake me up if you need me”

 

*

 

That’s how the next four days go.

Zayn fucks Harry on every flat surface of his house, and also against most of the vertical ones.

He knots Harry while bending him over the couch.

He has Harry on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor.

Harry rides him in the bathtub.

He fucks Harry’s mouth and then knots him on his back, in his bed.

Harry fucks his mouth in the shower, and then Zayn fucks him standing, against the shower tiles.

Zayn makes sure they’re fed and hydrated, because he knows he’s tiring Harry beyond measure, and Harry’s just glad to sleep in between their fucks. But ruts leave you feeling powerful and euphoric, so Zayn doesn’t need to sleep as much as Harry does. Instead, he cooks for both of them and makes sure they have plenty of water left.

On the fourth day, Zayn starts to feel the euphoria slowly dissipate. He doesn’t feel the need to come and knot every hour, and he can take things more slowly. He can enjoy having Harry pliant and willing underneath him, on his back, looking at him with his green eyes while Zayn fucks him slow and hard, leaving marks on every inch of his body for them both to remember.

With the end of his rut, though, he starts to think properly again, and he desperately wants to ask Harry what this all means, if this is just Harry helping Zayn, or if they can be _more_.

He never asks, though, too afraid Harry will just tell him this means _nothing more_.

The fourth night, Zayn knots Harry three times in a row. He’s a bit afraid Harry really can’t take that much, but every time Harry tells him he can take everything if it’s Zayn, and Zayn wants to believe him.

They’re both exhausted when they finally go to sleep, and Zayn can feel in his bones that his rut is long gone, probably already gone completely before they fucked the last time.

They fall asleep, not locked but without a single inch dividing them.

 

*

 

When Zayn wakes up, he’s alone.

He looks around the room and tries to listen hard for the sound of the shower from the bathroom, but he comes up short.

He feels despair and frustration settle low in his stomach, the exact opposite of how the end of a rut should feel, and stands up from the bed, looking around the place for any sign of Harry.

There’s none. The bathroom is empty, and so is the kitchen. At a closer inspection, Harry’s shoes and bag are also gone.

He’s alone.

He knows he’s fucked everything up. He stupidly curses Harry for letting that happen, but then he feels guilty about that too, because he let it happen just the same. He could have tried to control it.

Hell, he should probably have left Harry at the service area and run as far away from him as he could, and he would have still fucked up less than what he has fucked up now.

Zayn tries to call Harry for hours, only to be met with his voicemail.

Then he texts Louis, asking him if he’s at Liam’s and if Harry’s there.

 _He’s here, Z_ , Louis answers, _But I feel like maybe you should leave him alone for a bit? He needs some time to himself. Sorry, bro._

Zayn almost smashes his phone against the wall, and he cries. A lot. More than he ever has, because Harry’s scent is still everywhere in the house, and Zayn, much like when he only had his clothes, doesn’t even know how to begin thinking about what he’ll do when the scent will be gone, and he’ll be left with nothing.

 

*

 

It’s extremely weird for Liam to ask Zayn to hang out alone.

Sure, they’ve become good friends since he’s started dating Louis, but Liam rarely asks Zayn to come over without Louis in tow. And Louis is at work, so Zayn knows he’s not already at Liam’s place.

It’s been a whole week since Zayn’s accidentally gone into rut, and a whole week since he last saw or spoke to Harry.

Zayn misses him like a limb, and it’s not only his body and his scent that he misses. He misses _Harry_ , totally and utterly, the way his eyes glint when he’s telling a lame joke and the way his hands make gestures known only to himself when he speaks.

He misses his fucking dimples.

But he hasn’t tried to contact him anymore, and he hasn’t even set foot around their house, because he wants to do right by Harry at least _once_ in his fucking life, and he won’t push himself onto him.

They made a mistake. Zayn’s rut made them lose their minds and fuck the shit out of each other, but once the craze subsided, it’s been clear to both of them how they ruined it.

Zayn wants Harry, but Harry doesn’t want Zayn. He’s never shown that kind of interest since that first night at the club, and if Zayn had had just a tiny bit more self-respect, he would have stopped hanging out with Harry and repeatedly breaking his own heart that very night, before it all went completely to shit.

He knows Liam knows what’s happened. Zayn bets there has been no way for Harry to hide the smell of what they did from Liam. But that also means Liam would never ask Zayn to come over if Harry was in the house. Liam loves Harry, and wouldn’t impose Zayn’s presence on him like that of Harry didn’t want to.

Not like Zayn himself has done.

The gate of their building is open, and Zayn climbs the stairs to the third floor, ringing the doorbell of the place he kinda misses as well.

When the door opens, his favourite scent hits him.

Harry’s there, staring at Zayn like he’s seeing a ghost. He’s in his white t-shirt, thin grey sweats and bun again, just like one of the very first times Zayn saw him.

Harry stutters a little bit, his eyes a bit red. Has he been crying? _No no no I don’t want you to cry I want to protect you you should never cry._ “What… what are you doing here?” Harry asks, sniffling a little bit.

“I… I’m here for Liam” Zayn replies.

Harry blinks. “Liam’s not here. He’s keeping Louis company at work”

Zayn opens and closes his mouth for a moment, something about to dawn on him, but he’s not quick enough, because Harry rolls his eyes and speaks again. “Niall’s not home either. I’m alone and Liam tricked you into coming here so that we could _talk_ ” he scoffs.

Zayn doesn’t want him to scoff about them finally talking, though. “Can we?” he asks, and he doesn’t give a fuck if he sounds eager and needy “Talk?”

Harry nods, and steps away from the door to let Zayn in.

As soon as they’re both in the living room, Harry gestures to the couch. They sit, in awkward silence, and Zayn sadly thinks silences have rarely been awkward between them.

“I…” they start saying, together, and it’s so fucking cliché it makes both of them roll their eyes at themselves and each other.

Zayn nods. “You first”

Harry sighs. “Zayn, I’m sorry I left like that. And then stopped replying to you and never managed to see you again. It was just… too much, you know? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t give you this burden” he says, tormenting his rings as he always does when he’s nervous “But the days we spent together while you were in rut were the best fucking days of my life” he laughs, bitterly “And the thought they only happened because you were in rut was killing me. Still does”

Zayn gapes a little, because that’s definitely _not_ what he was expecting Harry to say. He doesn’t even know what he was expecting, though. “What?” he mutters “Harry, I… fuck, I’ve been wanting you since the bloody day I met you. But you don’t want me. You only did that night in the club, but it was just ‘cause you were going into heat, and after that… you never made a move on me, even if you’re not on suppressants anymore. So I kinda gave up, except not really, because you’ve kept being the only thing I’ve ever wanted, and I’m sorry I fucked it up by going into rut and not being able to resist you and do right by you”

Harry’s blinking furiously now, and it takes his three attempts before being able to reply coherently. “ _Don’t want you?_ ” he hisses, affronted “ _Only ‘cause of my heat?_ Fuck, Zayn, no! I… yeah, I was going into heat that night and maybe I was a bit more straightforward with you than I normally would be, but… it was only _you_ , Zayn. I didn’t even snap because of my heat, to be honest, I can control myself better than that. I snapped because you were so growly and bossy and protective only when those two Alphas showed up, but before that, you didn’t make a move on me, so I thought you weren’t interested and you were just acting on your Alpha instincts when those two made their move”

Zayn can’t believe where this conversation is going. He feels the urge to laugh at how stupid they both are, but he wants to keep explaining, keep clarifying, because Harry needs it and Zayn needs it as well, to make it finally work the way it’s supposed to. “I didn’t make a move on you that night because we barely knew each other, and I didn’t wanna come onto you like any other sex-crazed Alpha”

Harry snorts. “Zayn, you’ve _never_ felt like any other Alpha to me, not from that very first night. It doesn’t fucking matter if I kept being on suppressant after that horrible heat. I still felt your pull on me”

Zayn frowns. “Suppressants?”

Harry nods. “Yeah. I’d stopped taking ‘em ‘cause I’m stupid and I felt like they were lowering my chances at finding a mate. But after that heat hit me… it was horrible, going through it alone. I couldn’t take another one. So I started taking ‘em again”

“But if you’ve always been on suppressants after we met… then why can’t I stop thinking about your fucking smell, Harry? Why do you smell so fucking good to me?” Zayn asks, or better, whines and begs and feels pathetic and on cloud fucking nine at the same time, his grin threatening to split his face in two.

Harry’s lovely, pretty mouth opens into a ‘o’. “Wait, I… I don’t smell like any other Omega to you?”

Zayn shakes his head. “No, Haz. Fuck you… you smell like _mate_ to me”

Now that he’s finally said it, the thing that’s been nagging at him since he first smelled Harry’s scent, it doesn’t seem like that big of a revelation. It just seems _right_ , and the only thing Zayn can fucking say at this point.

Harry deflates. “You too, Zayn” he chuckles “You’ve been smelling like _something else_ to me since the bloody day we met. I was going crazy just from the faint scent I could smell on your clothes from the dry cleaning” he adds, and then blushes “I might have had to wash your clothes four fucking times for how much I rolled in them and wanked at their scent”

Zayn bursts out laughing. Hard. So hard Harry frowns and blinks, probably thinking Zayn’s finally gone bonkers, but it’s okay.

He pulls Harry to himself, inhaling freely just because he can. “You cost me a whole pack of laundry detergent, Harry Styles” he admits on his lips “And thirty pounds at the dry cleaning ‘cause your fucking shirts needed an extra ironing fee”

Harry laughs. He giggles right in Zayn’s mouth, and finally kisses Zayn, hard and with intent, but also without hinting to further activity, just to taste him and mix their scents again.

“Fucking finally!” they hear from behind the front door.

It’s Niall. “Shut up, Niall!” someone else hisses, probably Liam or Louis.

Harry arches an eyebrow. “Wasn’t Lou supposed to be at work?”

Zayn shrugs and pulls Harry in for another kiss. “I honestly don’t give a fuck” he states.

They nestle on top of each other against the armrest, Harry slotted between Zayn’s legs and with his cheek on his chest. Zayn inhales again, Harry’s scent feeling strong and lovely. “Can I say it now?” Zayn murmurs, with his lips on the crown of Harry’s head.

Harry chuckles. “I believe you already did more than once while you were in rut”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I wanna say it for real now”

Harry nods.

“ _Mine_ ” Zayn says, sighing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Harry nods again. “Yeah, Zayn” he says “Yours. And. _Mine_ , too”

Zayn nods along. “Yeah, babe. Yours”

 

*

 

When they visit Harry’s family for another wedding, it’s a year later, and Harry and Zayn are bonded for real this time. It also happens to be their first anniversary.

Flora and Michael hug them when they catch sight of them, and Zayn’s honestly happy to see Harry’s aunt again.

She stares at them for a moment, her eyes landing on the small bit of bond mark she can surely see on the junction between their necks and shoulders. A bond mark that wasn’t there the last time she saw them.

She doesn’t mention it, though, not until Harry gives them both away after too many shots when the wedding reception is almost over.

Harry kisses Zayn and giggles, handing him another drink. “Happy one year together, babe” he tells Zayn, but he’s loud, and Flora’s right next to them.

She arches an eyebrow at them. “I believe it should be _two_ years now?” she says.

Zayn winces, and Harry gasps dramatically. “Little white lie?” Harry tries, grinning.

Flora shakes her head, but she laughs as well. “I’m glad you took care of him” she tells Zayn when Harry’s pranced over to Michael “For real” she adds with a wink.

Zayn chuckles, and nods. “For real” he confirms.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely little fic has been very fun to write. I had to research a lot beforehand, because I've never written in this 'verse, but I hope it doesn't suck too bad.  
> There's gonna be another part in the next few weeks, about how they bonded, and maybe a little bit of their future.  
> You'll find me on tumblr as wont-you-stay-till-the-am.tumblr.com, come hit me up if you wanna talk.  
> Let me know what you're thinking :)  
> Till next time!


End file.
